The Seven Virtues
by Sinister Tomato
Summary: They walk the ashen tightrope between virtue and sin. [Urahara x Yoruichi] [Inspired by NessieGG's Seven Deadly Sins]
1. Chastity

**Notes**: This was inspired by NessieGG's **Seven Deadly Sins**. If you haven't read that yet, go!

I realize these two aren't the most virtuous of people, but I consider them to be something of a well-balanced mix.

Yargh. I think I messed up the characterization like whoa. Feel free to point out other mistakes.

**Rating**: K+ or PG

**Disclaimer**: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite. Idea of the virtues goes to Aurelius Clemens Prudentius.

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**Chastity: The Purity of Body and Mind**

Yoruichi was born a symbol of purity to the noble world. It was true that she was female, but the Shihouin house had become less particular with gender when for a long time they could not produce a healthy heir. In this case, heiress. They were careful in their handling and education of her. She was untainted, untouched, unmarred. She was perfection.

Until she stumbled into Rukongai. Her perfection was slightly blemished by the boy who had been born not as a symbol, but just for the sake of being born. He laughed at her, tugged at her hair, and smeared dirt on her nose. In his own way he was as pure her, as dirty as his clothes were and as dusty as his hair was.

They were children, and children were arguably the purest of beings. They were in the pursuit of knowledge. Knowledge was said to be a way to achieve purity of mind, which didn't make too much sense to them. Knowledge drifted through storms and dragged through mud to get to the people that cared to take it in and feed it, but they didn't argue much about it.

All that was left was purity of the body.

They didn't quite understand what that meant at the time, but Urahara surmised it might have something to do with bathing often. He didn't believe it, but he didn't know how else people cleaned themselves.

She shrugged, smeared mud on his cheek, and laughed.

They weren't too inclined on hygiene, so the subject had been dropped.

She wasn't aware of when she began to look at her best friend in a different light, but she remembered the day she trapped him into the janitorial closet on the second floor of the academy building during break. When her eyes readjusted to the dim lighting of the glass jar of light herbs, she laughed at his dumbfounded expression.

"What? It's not everyday a pair of legs chokes me into going into a--why a clos--mmmf?"

He held out his arms as he was forced by Yoruichi's sudden weight on him to lean painfully against a shelf. With arms looped around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist she was like a leech as she kissed him hard. When she noticed he still hadn't returned the gesture she reached up and gently nipped at his ear.

He hissed. "Y-Yoruichi--" He managed to push her arms away, but her legs remained firmly around his waist. She leaned against the door with arms crossed under her chest.

"Kisuke, before you go on warning me about who I am and who I'm supposed to make out with--" She remembered he had once mentioned as a joke that her status was something akin to a metaphorical chastity belt, and he didn't dare go anywhere near it.

He waved his hands defensively. "Eh? Who do you think I am? I was just going to ask you if we could go somewhere else. It's a little cramped here, don't you agree?"

She deflated mid snarl. She blinked. "Oh."

When Yoruichi became commander of the covert ops she also became the very definition of the word secret. When taken into consideration with Urahara, who was mystery incarnate which was amplified due to his new position as twelfth division captain, they made the perfect mischievous duo. They defied everything they were supposed to be and still managed to do what was expected of them and more.

She was bold enough to guide Urahara to her mansion after a night of heavy drinking. She supposed she shouldn't have let him drink so much. He was bound to have a massive headache the next morning. There was only one thing she could do to ease it. They flashed through many doors and rooms until they came to her set of lavishly decorated private chambers.

"You call this a room?" He looked up and down the expansive space filled with gold silk, several polished tables, heavily embroidered kimonos, and meticulously sewn throw pillows. He picked one up and stared at it, highly amused. "This makes my living quarters look like a hut." He threw it in her direction.

She weaved out of it's way and pounced on his back. He grunted and fell onto a small pile of gold and red quilts. He vaguely noticed she had ripped his captain's cloak in her impatience and struggled to lie on his back. He stared at her cat-like smirk through half-lidded eyes as she straddled his hips.

They shared a momentary grin and twisted into the sheets.

-

When they thought about the subject of purity later, while Urahara sat propped against a wall with a bucket beside him and looking sleepy, he took back what he said about the numerous amount of baths.

"We weren't meant to be clean, anyway."

Yoruichi pulled his captain's cloak higher against her throat, leaned against his shoulder, and smiled. No, they weren't, and they couldn't have cared less.

-

Yoruichi was a symbol of purity to those who had no idea who she truly was.

She was tainted with the scent of blood and incense; she was touched by firm, but gentle calloused hands; she was marred with teeth marks and bruises and cuts. Even with these she was still perfect with her playful nature and cat-like grin. She had nothing to prove, only to hide, and she had no problems with such a little detail.

He was the only one who knew.


	2. Diligence

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo.

A/N: Um…enjoy. Or not. Has the characterization improved a bit? I can only hope.

Vampirica: I'm glad you like it, but I'm afraid I can't write lemon. Seriously. I think it takes a few certain qualities to write compelling citrus, and I lack them all. Sorry.

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**Diligence: Pursuit with Dedication**

It was a known fact to all friends and strangers that Urahara Kisuke was outgoing. He went out of his way to do the profound, mostly for his own enjoyment, but he never had to feign profundity. It was a part of who he was, along with being an eccentric, girly, maddeningly cheerful, and just plain maddening.

She knew his limits well. It came with being around him for more than two centuries. Except, when it came to his determination to finish what he started, boundaries were nonexistent. He wasn't one to leave his work half-finished, even if he did have a habit of letting it sit for a period of time before going back to it.

He was so outgoing that going in was often a problem, even while he was indoors.

"Kisuke…"

He ignored her. At least, he made a valiant effort to try. The attempt would have been successful, were she not currently sitting on his shoulders.

She fingered a lock of blond hair that had seemingly decided within it's many strands to stick out and away from the others. "Aren't you tired yet?"

She could hear the amusement in his voice. "Are you going loosen your grip?"

Everyone knew Yoruichi was just as outgoing as Urahara in the activities she cared to go out of her way for. She clearly went out of her way just so she could insure the way was hers.

And she always got her way. Eventually.

She rolled her eyes as she shifted a little on her perch and waved at a wide-eyed Ukitake and a whistling Kyouraku. Urahara was the only man she ever knew who could walk around nonchalantly past two captains with a vague nod with a woman's legs wrapped around his neck. He didn't even have the grace to blush with his face buried in a report.

"No wonder everyone thinks you're gay…"

She imagined him pouting as he said, "Aw. Even you, Yoruichi-san?"

She yanked off a strand of hair.

He shrieked."Ow! Yoruichi-san is so cruel!"

"You would know."

She was hopeful when he stepped through the door to his quarters, but was crestfallen when he walked toward the leftovers of lunch.

She bent forward to stare at him upside down. "You're doing this on purpose."

He grinned through a mouthful of red bean mochi.

Shebent further forward, which would have been impossible if she wasn't Shihouin Yoruichi, and licked the white powder off his lips. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Yoruichi, by whatever means, alwayshad her way.


	3. Abstinence

Spoilers: Slightly for chapter 235.

Disclaimer: Roller skates belong to Joseph Merlin, who crashed into a mirror wall and a fiddler on the day of their debut. (This will make sense later.)

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**Abstinence: Practice of Taking in Moderation and Self-control**

It took several weeks of careful persuasion and childish games for Yoruichi to find out that he liked apples. Two more weeks after those several, he told her of his fondness for creation and demonstrated to her one of his contraptions which involved strapping small wooden boards with wooden wheels to the feet. When the first year had passed since their meeting, he gave her a crumpled-looking paper crane. "For good luck," he said. That was when she knew she had his friendship.

She didn't have his trust until she promised there would be no choice when it came to him.

Even with both she still had to needle further in order to gain familiar ground. He never told her more than she most likely needed to know.

It took time and patience to find out the smallest of things. Such as the fact that he liked the color green. And that he had an appetite that could rival hers. It wasn't until they were in the Shinigami academy did she find out his birthday was only a day before her own.

She wasn't entirely sure why she put up with his constant avoidance of certain subjects and mad antics, but she knew she was one of the very few. She could have easily demanded the information, but she was sure that would have only put him further away. She considered it as something of a challenge. A test of worth.

But sometimes she swore he did what he did just to annoy her.

She came to know him slowly over the course of several centuries. His quirks, his habits, his expressions. She figured he must've found out more about her than vice versa. She still learned something new about him every few weeks. At least, during the weeks she was around. She didn't know what she had missed in the last century, when she disappeared for decades at a time.

When she returned that day in spring, she learned that he had clammed up somewhere under that ridiculous hat of his. It wasn't his demeanor that gave it away, nor was it obvious in his words. She didn't need him to say anything for her to know something had changed.

So, instead of needling at what was wrong, she strode forward and took the challenge toward rebuilding the part of the bridge that had been burnt in her absence. She burnt that part on her own, but he made no effort to put out the fire.

She curled her sleek furry body into a ball in his arms. "So, roller skates. You should've patented that when you had the chance. Might've bought you a bigger hut. I recall you being sent to Belgium once. Did you purposely give the Belgium man the idea on that trip to the living world so he would crash into the mirror wall?"

That day in spring she had his laughter.

She left again to rescue a girl and a gem. When the orange-haired brat had asked of Urahara, she wasn't entirely surprised the man said nothing.

When she returned again, she had every intention of scratching the man for not providing a cushier landing. She decided to wait on that. Apologies were never an easy thing to do. Especially when an elbow was thrown into the mix.

The arrancar had been more powerful than she first thought. And this was the aftermath. She had heard Inoue's speech to Ichigo, had seen the look on his face as he listened. She remembered feeling like that many times when she was younger, feeling helpless, useless. Urahara stood in the background with a frown and his hat tipped low over his eyes. She knew he was thinking the same thing.

She learned they were both useless in comforting those children, because they could barely comfort each other. All they could do was save them and hope their lives would not be wasted.

Yoruichi wondered if pulling the girl out was a good idea. When Inoue had ran out of the shop in tears, she turned to question his decision, but found that he had turned away, facing the false sky. In that moment, she knew he was hiding something again.

When disaster struck again, she learned he created an inflatable fake body.

She examined it as the volume of the noise in the other room increased. "And it doesn't feel weird to be in it?"

"Nope! Hard to work with, though." Even amidst chaos he could sound almost cheerful. But not quite. She was probably the only one who would be able to tell.

"Did you ever test it before today?"

"Well, no, and that's why today presented the perfect opportunity!" The ruckus rose with the voice of a certain orange-haired substitute shinigami.

As Urahara deflated his balloon-like self, Yoruichi watched him with a frown. "What if you reacted late?"

He stuffed the pill in an unseen pocket. "I'm not that rusty. Had to get hit first, of course, but it was just timing from there."

Tired of seeing shadows, she leaned forward and brushed off the hat. "You should've tested it first."

He raised an eyebrow. "Was Yoruichi-san afraid for me?" he asked teasingly.

She flicked his forehead and leaned closer. "Don't be ridiculous." She could feel his breath on her lips, his hand cupped around her cheek…

A cup smashed to cracked fragments on the other side of the paper door.

The hand dropped with a nearly inaudible sigh. "Go," she said as she jammed the discarded hat on the mess of hair. He opened the door and went out with the trademark paper fan over his face, preparing for any wayward cup, fist, or elbow that most likely was prepared to be thrown his way. She fell back on the futon and listened vaguely.

She could handle the interruptions, intrusions, and interventions the world threw at them if it meant that at the end road she would have him in his entirety instead of the fragments she picked up along the way.

Yoruichi waited and would wait as long as she had to.


End file.
